Sea
by Tohru Midoran
Summary: umm... potc nerdy fanfic. two men meet and go somewhere. I haven't figured out what they're gonna do yet. warning, it's kinda random. oh, and it's slashy. lawdy-lawd.
1. Chapter 1

Disreputable Pirates of Great Reputation do not have any weaknesses. If a Disreputable Pirate of Great Reputation had a weakness, he would be a Reputable Pirate of a Reputation of no Great Importance. Captain Jack Sparrow was a Disreputable Pirate of Great Reputation, which meant that he had no weakness. At least, that was what he kept telling himself. Of course, he did have a great love of rum, and of The Pearl, but those he could overcome. It was not like him to dream of something he desired while asleep and awake. Tonight, Captain Sparrow dreamed about the same thing he had dreamed about for the last few months. Ever since he had left _him_ in Port Royal. The bed under Captain Sparrow rolled gently with the ship, sending the sweating and murmuring man onto his stomach. The Pearl knew about _him_, and she was, in her own way, speaking to Jack. The creaks of the ropes out on deck and the splash of the water rippling off of her sides all came into Jacks dream, and he quieted, listening to her. She whispered of _him_ and how she would allow for Jack to have _one_ more love to share, since it seemed to be bothering him so. She understood Love, and told Jack that they would be getting _him_ for the both of them to share soon. But then again, it might have only been a dream. It was easy for Jack to believe that his beloved Pearl could be alive though, especially on a beautiful morning with the feel of the smooth wood under his hands. As he stood caressing the wheel, his first mate came up, taking his attention away from the living lady under his hands.

"Cap'n, we seem to have changed course during the night. I just took a reading, and we're headed to the English seas. Funny thing is though, we're goin straight and all the sails are lashed firm."

Captain Jack Sparrow, being a Disreputable Pirate of Great Reputation, was superstitious, as all good Pirates are. He heeded his dreams, especially when they concerned one of the three things he loved; Rum, the Pearl, or _him_.

"Keep this course, and make sure that we stay on it." Turning back to the wheel as Gibbs went off to tell the crew the news, he whispered to his ladylove, "We'll see, luv, we'll see."

The wind off of the sea blew cold and harsh. Any man standing on the empty docks would have been shivering after a minute, what with the waves crashing down on the wooden planking and boats moored in Port Royal's harbor. Although the sun had not yet set, it might as well have. Dark clouds were being blown in from the sea, tall angry clouds that slashed across the sky. A damp darkness seemed to be seeping into everything in the city, as a thick fog rolled in. Near the docks, crows circled around corpses creaking in the wind, trying to get to the rotting flesh that was encased in metal bars. They weren't the only living things out by the ships though, and they soon scattered, protesting loudly and angrily, as a rock clanged against one of the cages and silently disappeared into the waves below. William Turner stood as far out into the sea as the docks would allow. He glared angrily at the crows. And at the sea. And at the sky. The weather meant that there would probably be no more ships coming in, and any caught out in that storm wouldn't last long. The fog had soaked through Will's loose cotton shirt and his leggings, and the only thing dry on him was his feet, which were encased in sturdy leather boots. Well, the weather wouldn't change by staring at it, and neither would the letter he'd gotten earlier that day. The letter. He'd left it lying on his table in his rush to get down here. Someone, anyone could see it there… Will left the moored boats at a run. If he'd looked behind him, he would have seen the crows swooping back to peck at the decaying pirates.

The streets of Port Royal were deserted. Governor Swann had ordered that half-hourly patrols of five soldiers were to sweep the streets night and day, and arrest anyone who was "suspicious". This really was a guise to let the soldiers beat and arrest anyone they pleased, till most everyone stayed off the streets. The soldiers bypassed the taverns and whorehouses that were hidden in alleyways down by the seaside as long as they got more than their fair share of whores and rum. Thick fog had now permeated the entire city, and the scarce lighting was now almost entirely erased. The sun had set, and the black clouds veiled the moon and the stars, as well as anything in the harbor. A light rain was falling, quickly wetting the cobblestones and the blacksmith hurrying through it. The clomp of soldiers hobnailed boots on the streets rang out, the sound distorted by the fog until it was impossible for anyone to tell where the crash of soldiers came from. Will followed alleyways and even a few rooftops in a roundabout way through the maze of streets in an effort to avoid arrest.

The door to Turner's Smithy banged open as a rush of rain, wind, and Will blew through it. The man noticed with relief that the letter was where he had left it. He changed into dry clothes, hanging his wet ones up by the faintly glowing forge to dry. When he was warm, he sat down at the table to read the note again. As he picked it up, the brown parchment glowed in the firelight like a star on the cold empty night. The rum and saltwater stains gave it character, and a distinct smell of the sea.

My dearest William,

I heard of Your Gal marrying that Pig, Norrington. I am now hoping that You can see things My Way, And Submit to the bloode that your father gave you. I will be coming for you on the fourteenth of this month. We Will talk. I hope to have you aboard my shipe. Please do not bother to prepare a welcoming partye; I will accept no gifte othr than you. I am rathr low on crewe these days, and the crewe and I would greatly apreeshe ate having you on board. I will, of course, be dropping in rather un – expectedly, so please do not have other companye on that day. Do not rite a return letter. Just wait for me. And if your' speaking to the dear terror, give my best to Elizabeth.

Much Love, Jack

P.S. This letter was dictated to me by Jack. He is Not doing Well. I fear for his health. Please come with us.

Will set the letter down gently on the table. He stared at it for a while, and then stood up. Today was the fourteenth. The day Jack had spoken of. The day a storm had been building all day and was finally letting loose. Jack hadn't come yet. That meant either he was caught in the storm, or docked somewhere else. Will knew that he was a clever pirate, a knowledgeable sailor; he knew that he was one with his ship. But Will still worried. So many things could go wrong. He walked into the back room, and stripped. After putting an extra blanket on his mattress, he curled up in the warmth and fell asleep to the sound of rain tap-tap-tapping on his window.

Jack let hiself in the window quietly, muttering to himself. "Fancy the blasted pup not hearing a poor drenched man trying to seek out some shelter in the pouring rain. you'd think he might take the time to wake up and greet an old comrade, but noo-oo.." the Pirate rambled on like this for a while as Will slept on peacefully, the light from the dying forge lighting his nose and cheek as they were smeared across the pillow. After watching Will for a while, Jack walked in to the main room, and curled up next to the donkey, and soon was snoring peacefully.

Shouts drifted through Jack's sleep-dulled mind. A familiar voice was calling, calling his name. Jack leapt up, feeling the cold floor on his bare feet as his sleep-mussed hair jumped about wildly. Dashing into Will's room, he beheld the sleeping boy tossing wildly. Reaching down, he held Will. Blacksmith muscles struggled with wind and sea muscles as the sleeping Will fought on. Jack held him, keeping him from harm. glancing around, he spared an arm to splash a mug of water on Will's face. The owner of the wet face woke with a start.

Jack held Will and caressed his hair. The young man trembled in his arms, warm, sweaty and… naked. Well now. When life hands you lemons… no. It was too soon.

"Now now luv, calm down. You had a bad dream. Old Jackie's here, it's all right. Now why don't you just get dressed, and I'll be waiting out there with food for you, and then you can tell me all about it, hmm?"

Will leaned back, covering his naked form with the covers.

"Sorry Jack, I'll just be a minute."

Jack walked out into the main room of the smithy and set up breakfast for the two of them, talking to himself as he did.

"Now, Many a lesser man would give into the temptation of having a naked panting beautiful young man leap into his arms, but not I. I am Captain Jack Sparrow. And Captain Jack Sparrow always ripens his fruit before he plucks it." He poured two cups half full of tea, and grinned at them. "A good bit of one of my loves to the other ought to help set things straight." A surprisingly shiny silver flask appeared in his hand, and he filled up the rest of the cups with it. Picking one up, he took a sip. And frowned. It was a mite strong; Will might notice the taste of alcohol in his tea. Casting around for something to dull it down with, he found a sugar bowl. Now, keep in mind that Jack was a Pirate. Pirates don't drink much tea. After making sure that the contents of the bowl was sugar, jack emptied half of it into his cup, and half in will


	2. Chapter 2

Jack was sweating. He forced a smile on his face as he set his teacup down in its saucer. Will was quiet; he sipped his tea pensively and stared out the grimy window at the greasy rain sheeting down. It was all Jack could do to chase away the grimace as the sugar sank into his mouth, forming a sickly-sweet coating on his tongue and teeth. He noted with dismay that he was only about halfway done with his disgusting beverage. Will glanced over, as Jack quickly tried to hide his distaste for the cloying drink. "Pass the sugar, Jack?"

Even as Will leaned over the blistering heat from the forge, he felt coldness inside. All he could think about was her. Elizabeth. She had been his best friend; his only friend. And now… now. Now what? She would still be his friend. They would still talk, laugh, and have adventures like they always did; like they used to. They would still make fun of the upper-class, and how ridiculous they all were. Except now they would not be seen in public. Now Will could not talk with her, could not visit her where she would live. It wasn't that Will hated Norrington for marrying Liz, he respected that the man most likely loved her and would take care of her. Will would almost never get to see Liz now though. It wouldn't be proper for them to be seen together, and Will was certain that after their little 'pirate' escapade, the governor would be keeping a very close eye on Liz and making sure she didn't get close to Will. He sighed, turned away from the forge. Jack had run off that morning right after breakfast, muttering something about 'sensible rum and clean water'. He was probably going off to find a whore or three. Sigh. Will would miss having a best friend.

"Where do you usually take your victuals, mate?" Will looked up and down the street. "Any tavern will do, I can't cook on my forge." Jack shook his head gravely. "Any tavern? Why, that's like saying any port in a storm, any ship will float, that's crazy. There has GOT to be someplace around here you like, come on, out with it." Will smiled. "Sorry Jack, I really don't know. I always ate dinner up at the mansion with Liz... now I just eat anywhere." Jack sighed. "Well then, I guess I'll have to choose… lets see, how about the Gentleman's Club?" Will looked at him dubiously. "Jack, you don't look like a gentleman."

"Nonsense."

Will was doing his best to keep a straight face. The serving boy who had lead them to their table was now getting a royal telling-off from a very lacy and pompous looking Jack Sparrow. His wig was shaking from the movements of the man supporting it far below its mountainous top. There was an unbelievable amount of lace stuffed in his shirt at the front, a cravat gone horribly wrong. The lace spewing from his sleeves did nothing to the whole effect, trailing through the air as Jack's spastic hand motions made the frightened boy back away.

Will interrupted Jacks tirade as the boy looked about to bust into tears. "I think Sir Sparrow and I would like to be left alone for the rest of the evening." He said with authority. The boy looked at him gratefully and scuttled back to the kitchen.

Will coughed, trying to get the spiced cider out of his windpipe. Jack thumped his back and apologized. "I'm sorry William, I shouldn't have sprung that on you so suddenly." Will's eyes were streaming. He sipped his cider, trying to get his breath back. "No, no, that's fine. Actually I have been thinking about it." Jacks face was suddenly unreadable. "I've though a lot…" Will said slowly. "Could I just be a blacksmith and not fight? I don't mind leaving Port Royal, but… I don't think I'm prepared to kill in cold blood." Jack frowned. He had not expected this. "Maybe I'd better clear this up. Every crewmember is expected to participate in expelling possible boarders. Even if we attack first, you will be expected to fight, mate. You don't have to board the enemies ship, but you will have to fight." Will sighed. "I'm really not a pirate, Jack; I don't want to kill anybody. But if those are your terms, so be it. I accept."

Jack smiled down at His angelic face bathed in moonlight. He seemed so peaceful when He was sleeping. It had been a week since Jack had come for Him; now the Pearl had sent word earlier that evening that they were waiting to pick them up. Jack knew that they didn't have much time, but the pearl could wait until morning. His Will needed sleep, a chance to rest His mind.


	3. Chapter 3

There was a light drizzle next morning. Not enough water was falling to make rings in the puddles on the streets, just enough so that the casual pedestrian would be soaked within minutes. The fog of vapor was making the walls of the buildings sweat and drip, nervous with the threat of mildew. The sun promised to burn the dank fog up by mid afternoon, but that didn't make Will Turner's face any cheerier as he plodded along behind his pirate friend. He examined the cobblestones passing under his coal-blackened boots, shades of gray with the occasional sparkling light of a disturbed puddle. He was leaving his lifelong home forever – again. Once again, he was leaving. Once again, in the company of a pirate, the pirate who was leading him. Will could see his muscles rippling under his tight leather vest, making his trailing red hip scarf whip around dangerously. The dirty scarlet tassels at the end of it were flicking Will's boots, leaving little streaks of mud bleeding from the polished leather. Would everything Jack do soil Will somehow? Will growled under his breath, frustrated. He glared angrily at jack's calves, flexing sexily under his swishing greatcoat, seeming to strain against the fabric that held them in. Why did he have to follow this man…?

Jack halted suddenly. He stood still, listening. There it was… the rhythmic tramp of navy-issued boots. He looked around frantically. There was an alley, by a fishmonger's store.

"Jack? Why did you stop?" Jack looked behind him. Will seemed confused, almost sullen.

"Lobsters mate. We've got to hide. Any idea where that alley leads?" Will looked down the dark street.

"No, I'm not too familiar with this part of Port Royal" Will was suddenly yanked into the small, dark alleyway as the sound of boots rounded the corner. Jacks hot breath whispered into his ear,

"Good, then we'll just have to make it up as we go along. Don't move." The alley was painfully small. Will was aware of Jacks body pressing up against his as the soldiers marched by. Jack leaned in closer; whispering,

"Quiet luv, one move and we're dead" Will bit his lip. Jacks proximity to him was intoxicating in ways Will had never thought of. Still the redcoats marched on. Will could smell the salt and rum in Jacks hair. Jack inched his way farther down the alley, motioning Will to do the same. They had gone about two yards in from the opening when the last soldier walked past them. Will groaned loudly in relief, knowing that they wouldn't have been able to escape the patrols notice for much longer. Jack glanced up at Will. For a second, Will could have sworn he'd seen hunger in his friends' eyes. That soon vanished. Jack smiled brightly.

"Right then, now we can continue." He squirmed, trying to get our from between the wall and Will. He freed himself, and quickly whipped around, briskly making his way out of

the alley and down to the harbor.

Will dubiously climbed into the dinghy after Jack. Jack was looking worried, glancing around at all the ships in the small harbor.

"Surely, Jack, a ship with black sails won't be hard to find?" the pirate chuckled as he started rowing them out between the many white sailed boats.

"Aye kitten, you're right there. It'll be easy to find, once we get a little ways out to sea." Will gaped at him, not having heard a word past Jack calling him 'kitten'. Jack's smoldering coal eyes looked up at Will in annoyance.

"Come on kit, don't just sit there staring at me, turn around and start rowing. Two's always better than one, and the sooner we get out of here, the sooner we're safe." Will turned around and picked up the oars, resigned to his fate.

"Right," Said Jack, "She's got to be past this rocky outcropping here."

As they rounded what seemed like the five-hundredth rocky outcropping, Jack said for what sounded like the five-hundredth time, "She's got to be here!"

Will dropped his oars. His shoulders were burning from the unaccustomed repetitive movement, he was tired.

"Jack, this has got to be the five-hundredth time you've said that. Can we please put in to shore and rest?" Jack glared out at the sea. He flipped open his compass and studied it. Frowning, he turned to Will.

"Aye mate, but we're not sleeping. If they sail past us, we're stuck here."


End file.
